Resident Evil 2: The New Blood
by Bios13
Summary: My second novelization from the Resident Evil Series. Chapter Four Posted. Following Leon Kennedy's shocking encounters with the walking dead, Claire Redfield discovers herself surrounded by the hoards in the crumbling remains of an abandoned restaurant.
1. Chapter 1

RESIDENT EVIL 2: The New Blood

Raccoon Times  
July 25th, 1998

Umbrella Properties Lost In Mysterious Explosions

It was around 5:30 A.M. when the residents of the Emerald Gardens community found themselves awakened by an explosive shockwave which thundered across the neighboring woodlands. These powerful shockwaves were reported to have resulted in minor damages throughout several of the smaller neighborhoods around Raccoon Forest. It was discovered within the hour that the source of the explosion was the Spencer Mansion, former landmark and prominent property of the Umbrella Corporation. Investigating officers have produced the theory that the ancient estate was contacted by the recent brush fires, which burned through the woodwork and eventually reached several flammable chemicals which had been stored in the basement of the abandoned mansion. Responding firefighters suffered extensive problems with the police barricade surrounding the forest perimeter and found themselves confronted with the hopelessness of the situation. The explosion and resulting flames had completely consumed the crumbling mansion and the adjacent buildings, leaving the uninhabited estate beyond recovery.

The Spencer Mansion is known as the personal property of Oswell E. Spencer, internationally known as the Umbrella Corporation's original founders and the company's longtime CEO. The magnificent building was also considered to be the final masterpiece of the famous architect, George Trevor, whom personally designed and oversaw the construction of the mansion. The lavish estate was original intended to provide Umbrella VIPs comfort and security during extensive business meetings amongst other dealings which would remove executives from their European Headquarters. However, the mansion was deemed uninhabitable following the mysterious disappearance of the master architect and due to these unfortunate circumstances, the mansion was never inhabited and has been abandoned for several decades.

The investigating officers have since discovered the smoldering remains of another unaddressed building belonging to the worldwide pharmaceutical company, whom have since confirmed this second property to be the Umbrella Training Facility. Originally constructed to provide training to potential security personnel, the isolated compound has apparently been utilized toward handling corporate business in place of the condemned mansion. Although having remained important toward training security personnel, the compound has become increasingly underused by local branch offices. Umbrella was expressing plans to reopen the facility following some necessary upgrades, but seem reluctant towards rebuilding the isolated complex.

The destructive explosion remained unnoticed due to the isolated nature of the compound and there was apparently nobody present within the compound at the time of the explosion. It is suggested to have occurred around twenty-four hours before the explosion which claimed the adjacent mansion, around seven miles south of the compound. It shouldn't be surprising that the Umbrella Corporation has launched their own investigation into this matter.

Raccoon Weekly  
July 30rd, 1998

War Criminal Suspected Deceased

Alongside the investigation currently being conducted by the Raccoon Police Department and the Umbrella Corporation, several investigators from the Marine Corps have recently been conducting another investigation regarding a different matter. According to the current officer-in-charge, who shall remain unnamed, there were suspicions that there might have been a mass-murderer and war criminal running loose in the nearby mountains. However, recent evidence and testimony suggests that the military prisoner might be dead, and officials have stated that the manhunt will be called off unless further evidence suggests otherwise. 

Ex-Lieutenant Billy Coen was court-martialed on July 22nd, having been found guilty alongside three other soldiers for the murder of twenty-three innocent civilians and sentenced to execution in three weeks. The other three prisoners arrived and have been incarcerated since, but the military vehicle transporting Billy Coen apparently experienced an accident which drove it from the forested backroads. The remains of the vehicle were discovered, but the two military police and the condemned prisoner were nowhere to be found and remain missing following an extensive search.

Rebecca Chambers of the S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team recently stepped forward with further information regarding the inhabitants of the military vehicle, having originally discovered the vehicle during the unfortunate operation which claims several of her teammates. Officer Chambers insists that when Bravo Team stumbled upon the wrecked vehicle, there were three bodies strewn around and began searching for additional possible survivors. The Alpha Team would eventually join the Bravo Team and discovering several individuals who were suspected to be the cannibal murderers, which ultimately resulted in an explosive firefight.

It is believed that these individuals might have recovered the bodies and carried them off. Considering the abnormal murders that have been plaguing the countryside and the testimony of the recently suspended officer, the investigation is expected to be closed in two weeks. Our prayers go out to the families of those innocent soldiers who have passed away fulfilling their patriotic duties, but our concerns remain upon Billy Coen. Without having witnessed further appearances of these cannibal murders, it would appear that in attempting to commit another heinous crime, they have removed another heartless murderer which the world will no longer suffer.

Raccoon Daily Record  
July 30th, 1998

S.T.A.R.S. Removed From Murder Investigations

There is some intense pressure building within the Raccoon Police Department, especially following the recent developments which are threatening the existence of the department's tactical response unit. It was announced yesterday afternoon that the Special Tactics And Rescue Service (S.T.A.R.S.) has been officially removed from the investigation concerning the cannibal murders which have been appearing around the countryside within recent months. Readers might remember the S.T.A.R.S. being dispatched shortly following the tenth brutal murder and their assignment to search northeast Raccoon Forest for the alleged cannibal murderers.

Their removal from the investigation remains unexpected, the city council considers their primary reason to be the unbecoming behavior presented by the members of the department's special response operatives. Internal investigations have accused the members of displaying blatantly unprofessional conduct and gross incompetence eventually resulting in one wrecked helicopter, department issued equipment and seven casualties, including the unit's founder and commander, Captain Albert Wesker.

Police Chief Brian Irons has absolutely refused to discuss the unfortunate events or to release official documentation regarding their unsuccessful assignment, claiming that there is nothing to produce. The surviving officers of the S.T.A.R.S. will remain suspended pending further notice, although termination remains an obvious possibility. These responsibilities have been returned to the officers and detectives of the Raccoon Police Department, several of which remain anxious to solve these crimes.

Raccoon Daily Record  
August 7th, 1998

Umbrella Suspects Corporate Sabotage

The detectives of the Raccoon Police Department and the private investigators representing the Umbrella Corporation have recently announced their suspicions of corporate sabotage, believing an accidental explosion to have been possible following an extensive investigation. It has become apparent that high powered explosives were used to demolish both the Spencer Mansion and the Umbrella Training Facility. Several unused packets of C4 were discovered around one hundred yards away from either building and investigators also discovered a wireless detonator around the nearby river. It is suspected somebody infiltrated these buildings, searched for anything valuable and then demolished the building with the planted explosives. 

It currently remains unknown what those responsible were attempting to accomplish by destroying two abandoned properties, but the Raccoon Police Department has become increasingly vigilant considering the presence of high powered explosion. The Umbrella Corporation has recently begun bulldozing whatever remains of the buildings away and have expressed ambitions of rebuilding upon the damaged sites. With the investigation having been closed until further notice, the Raccoon Police Department is currently searching for the source of these explosive devices. Anybody possessing any knowledge involving the smuggling or illegal selling of explosives is urged to step forward.

Raccoon Daily Record  
August 18th, 1998

S.T.A.R.S. DISSOLVED!  
Former Members Awaiting Reassignment!

Following three weeks of intensive questioning from reporters and journalists regarding the failed investigation conducted by the police department's tactical response officers, the Raccoon Police Department has delivered the most unexpected response. Following several discussions with Police Commissioner Jonathan C. Westmoreland, Police Chief Brian Irons attended a press conference yesterday afternoon where he announced the several changes which were planned for the police department. The most surprising was his announcement of having officially dissolved the Special Tactics And Rescue Service (S.T.A.R.S.) earlier that morning and having placed the present officers on suspension. 

Brian Irons believes that with only seven members remaining and recent developments in their personal lives, the tactical response unit cannot possibly survive, especially when the former officers seem doomed to obscurity. Chris Redfield and Barry Burton have recently been accused of threatening and assaulting journalists attempting to obtain their testimony, although these allegations have remained outside the judicial system. Brad Vickers was accosted outside his apartment by an outraged citizen, witnesses claim that the attacker eventually retreated and Vickers never pressed charges, apparently emotionally overcome regarding whatever happened back on July 24th.

Following this shocking announcement, Brian Irons delivered another by announcing that there would be no reason to terminate the surviving officers considering their acceptable evaluations. Sergeant Andrew Maxwell believes that the remaining officers will be subject to immediate reassignment, but will remain under an undetermined period of unsupervised probation. At the moment, it remain unknown how the damaged police department is going to reorganize and supplement for the disbandment of the S.T.A.R.S. Team.

The Raccoon Times  
August 29th, 1998

SELECT POLICE FORCE  
Raccoon Police Department Welcomes Newcomers

The city council recently approved the Raccoon Police Department's proposal concerning the establishment of another paramilitary unit to supercede the recently disbanded Special Tactics And Rescue Service (S.T.A.R.S). This newest group, called the Select Police Force (S.P.F.) will become the foundation from which another tactical response group might be constructed through advanced training. The commanding officers of this special response unit will be drawn from the department's experienced veterans, while the lesser positions are to be filled with younger officers and promising academy graduates. The Raccoon Police Department is expected to be bringing in around twenty-seven officers within the next several weeks from thirteen different academies and departments.

While the ultimate ambitions for the Select Police Force currently remain unknown, it has been announced that during the next several months these officers will be participating in standard police operations and have been outfitted to support other divisions of law enforcement in the event of an emergency. The officers qualified to remain within the group will receive additional training around the department, rounding out to around twenty hours every week. It is the department's hope that having higher trained officers prepared to immediately address emergency situations will become instrumental in eliminating the various dealers and smugglers which have been appearing in Raccoon City.

Raccoon Today  
September 6, 1998

Ghost Sightings In Raccoon Forest

Several sightings of a mysterious masked figure wandering the forested outskirts of northwest Raccoon City have recently been reported from various sources. The police officers have investigated following two campers alleging that somebody screamed and chased after them wielding an axe. Responding patrol officers reported discovering the bloody remains of crows and wild dogs nearby, which remains consistent with the remains which have also been washing up on river banks in the area. With the cannibal murderers suspected to be dwelling in the deeper regions of the forest, the whole region seems to have been swept up in the hysteria and a mood of fear and paranoia is prevalent. The investigating officers haven't reached conclusions of their own, but long-time residents insist that this masked stranger is the tortured spirit of a patient from the nearby hospital that closed down 5 years ago. Are these bizarre sightings just a taste of things to come?

Raccoon Today  
September 11th, 1998

UMA in the Arklay Mountains?

Several campers recently reported sighting an enormous insect measuring an estimated 6 feet and sporting formidable pincers somewhere in the western region of the Arkley Moutains. The sighting campers report having witnessed three of these creatures near their tent, crawling low to the ground and making distinctive skittering sounds. One of their hunting dogs was apparently attacked and has spent two weeks under a veterinarian's care. Several other campers have come forward reporting similar sightings of different animals in the nearby mountains. Graham Barrows (52), an entomologist and assistant professor at Raccoon University, insists that the existence of such an insect is absolutely impossible. Despite these various claims, he has referred to these sightings as mass hysteria from individuals with nothing better to do than provoke commotion.

Raccoon Today  
September 13th, 1998

Monsters Inhabiting Raccoon Forest?

Elliott Blackstock(24) approached the police department yesterday afternoon regarding another mysterious sighting of an unknown creature skulking within the nearby Raccoon Forest. The native resident explained that some monstrous creatures approached their campsite around midnight, describing them as carnivorous monsters resembling gorillas and possesses several reptilian characteristics. Blackstock explained that himself, his older brother and their mutual friend attempted to escape form their campsite and these monsters chased them. Blackstock was discovered by an unnamed resident on the roadside, having tumbled down the nearby hill and broken his right shoulder. Repeated attempts to contact Thomas Blackstock(26) and Andrew Ryan(23) failed and provoked an investigation.

The investigating officers were shocked to eventually discover the remains of both individuals, both of them having been completely eviscerated and requiring dental records to manage positive identification. Elliott Blackstock might seem like an obvious suspect, but the RPD's forensics department is doubtful considering the inhuman amount of physical force and excessive violence used in these killings. Considering these mysterious sightings, the police department should probably rethink their barricade around the perimeter of the Raccoon Forest.

* * *

Author's Commentary: It has been around sixteen months since I originally promised this second novelization, following the conclusion of the novelization on the Mansion Incident and my promise to continue revising it to meet my newfound standards. I have recently remembered my original enjoyment of novelizing this wonderful series and have managed to acquire considerable inspiration from several of the recent releases, including Umbrella Chronicles and Resident Evil 4. This rewritten novelization will involve an excessive amount of confrontation and , completely eliminating the seemingly pointless puzzles which are scattered throughout the police department. The overall storyline and starring characters will remain intact, there will be several manipulations and original elements featured throughout the chapters. I've already decided upon having the novelization follow the ClaireA/LeonB scenario, although neither characters will have an easier predicament than the other. The opening chapter should be posted within the next week, in the meantime I will remain attentive to the suggestions and criticism provided by the reviewers. 


	2. Chapter 2

Raccoon Countryside - Westbound Interstate  
September 29th, 1998 8:02 P.M.

Anybody that found themselves traveling down the monotonous expanse of the western interstate would have probably noticed what was happening on the western horizon. Several exhausted drivers would have found themselves distracted by the natural beauty which surrounded the endlessness of the concrete pathway. There were others that could have become hypnotized in watching the majestic twilight as it touched upon the natural world, accenting their wondrous surroundings with that blazing mixture of tropical colors which burned with the furious brilliance of the fiercest inferno. The evergreen wilderness possessed an auspicious presence upon the numerous mountains which crowded out the evening skyline, characteristic of the mid-western countryside. To those fortunate witnesses who admired the absolute brilliance of that moment, the experience would have probably outlasted most greeting cards depicting that same burning sunset.

Within moments those burning flames which painted the western horizon began dwindling and eventually started undergoing another transformation which demanded attention from the onlookers. An uninterested glance could be transformed into an entranced gaze as those tropical colors succumbed to those chilling shades of violet and lavender. Within moments those frosted colors surrendered to the evening shadows, silently pitching the peaceful countryside into the darkness of the evening. It seemed that there would be no silver illumination tonight, that lunar satellite would remain unseen while trapped under the shadow of the Earth. However, it was during this starless darkness that the artificial illumination from the nearby metropolis would become visible to those wayward travelers populating these paved pathways.

Leon Scott Kennedy allowed his left hand to loosely grasp the steering wheel while the other hand reluctantly disengaged the cruise control settings on his simple black jeep. The billowing steam from the nearby coffee cup remained active around his peripheral vision, the small boost from the caffeinated beverage having served to strengthen his awareness against the exhaustion brought about an uneventful journey. The lingering scent of the cheeseburger combo he had consumed around thirty minutes earlier emanated from the crumbled paper bag on the passenger's floorboard, the greasy food having effectively silenced his grumbling stomach. His black traveling pack rested upon the unoccupied passenger's seat, the various supplies packed into his black traveling pack rattling against some meager clothing. The stereo had recently completed another CD and had fallen silent, the rumble of the vehicle's engine and the absent whipping of the passing wind becoming another monotonous soundtrack for the lackluster journey.

The glowing figures from the dashboard played softly across his handsome features as the young traveler casually applied greater acceleration, intentionally pushing the common vehicle around seven miles over the speed limit. Kennedy doubted that anybody would do anything considering the position which awaited him, not to mention that the interstate highway seemed to been completely abandoned. The single exception to this theory was the presence of the transfer truck which had passed him around twenty minutes earlier, heading in the same general direction with some apparent desperation. Somebody would have needed to shatter the marked limitations by twenty miles before anybody considered them necessarily dangerous to themselves or anybody else. Although his perceptions would change sometime later, the motorist figured that there probably wouldn't have been many people commuting between Stoneville and Raccoon City.

Although his overall attention remained upon the streaking asphalt of the endless interstate, this unique individual had discovered himself distracted with the magnificent phenomenon. There was little acknowledgment of his obvious carelessness and little ignorance of his unconscious violations, there was merely the amusement which had spread across his handsome features. The wayward traveler was admiring the same horizon which had been witnessed in countless memories from his childhood and adolescence, having growing up in the countryside and adapted an appreciation for those natural treasures which so many constantly overlooked. The lingering twilight brought back memories of the greatest friends and worthwhile experiences, those building blocks which had formed an unyielding foundation on which his existence was now being constructed. In that moment, Leon Kennedy actually found himself regretful that almost three years had passed without managing to witness this wondrous occurrence.

Three years had passed following his uncomfortable movement to the inner city and his essential disconnection from the natural world from which he had carried himself. The starlight and moonlight remained unseen amongst the dominating glow of the florescent lighting and flashing neon which dominated the inner city. The chirping of the crickets and the tweeting of the songbirds remained unheard amongst the gridlocked traffic and chattering populace. In the three years which had passed following high school graduation, his occasional return to the countryside was distraught with anxiousness and exhaustion. Those amongst friends and classmates had their own reasons for leaving their hometown and rushing into the nearest metropolis. There were some that wanted to pursue higher education and others whom sought employments to discover their position within the working world, this unique individual actually considered his reasons much more interesting.

It was within the last thirty-six months that Leon Scott Kennedy found himself constantly surpassing the challenging expectations of one of the country's most extreme police academies. Having possessed aspirations towards something greater than standard patrol and officer work, the ambitious individual pushed forward and eventually found himself under advanced training and additional instruction. His steadfast determination awarded several recommendations and shattered records, inevitably surpassing those held by his father and grandfather. Immediately following the academy graduation, these promising graduates began receiving invitations from various police departments across the nation. His natural talents and polished abilities could have carried him almost anywhere, but he had settled upon the growing metropolis of Raccoon City.

The Raccoon Police Department currently required additional officers to compensate for the constant growth of the mid-western town, all of which had been made possible by the support and funding of the Umbrella Corporation. There was little question that whenever the industrial complex of most settlements started increasing, there would inevitably be an increased amount of crime amongst the greater population. The desperate department had responded in recent months by recruiting more officers and establishing police substations around the growing metropolis. The police department was also attempting to recruit promising young officers into their newly established Select Police Force, which would eventually begin fulfilling the former responsibilities of their defunct predecessor. The mid-western metropolis would eventually become an impressive landmark nationwide and seemed to have been the most logical choice for the rookie officer, especially considering that he was somewhat familiar with the surrounding countryside.

Officer Kennedy glanced towards the digital clock without much concern, he wouldn't be officially integrated into the department until the next morning and was currently looking forward to stepping into his recently procured apartment. His modest furniture and necessary belongings should have been delivered to his working-class studio apartment earlier that morning, so he was prepared to start unpacking. The apartment complex was constructed on the corner of Woodbine and Chumleigh, located within walking distance of several restaurants and smaller stores. His newfound residence would place him around two blocks from the nearby park and the adjacent hospital, although he hoped the latter convenience wouldn't become necessary. The modest apartment complex also possessed the quality of being around five minutes from the police department, which came as an incredible selling point following three years of battling relentless traffic. The young officer's quaint apartment seemed perfect enough, but there was one rather morbid factor which would probably cause some uneasiness amongst his would-be neighbors. The modest apartment was uncomfortably close to where three of those murder victims had been discovered, those same cannibal murders which had plagued the suburban neighborhoods in recent months.

Officer Kennedy couldn't maintain that same positive attitude upon remembering those violent crimes which had threatened to shatter the steadfast foundations of the growing metropolis. The young officer's grasp twisted around the steering wheel as an aggressive nature suddenly manifested within him, several unprofessional emotions threatening his impressive constitution in the slightest fleeting moment. Leon had possessed disillusions from early childhood that the mid-western town would be an innocent paradise where something so incredibly terrible shouldn't have happened. Such blatant ignorance was vanquished upon learning that those same cannibal murders from recent months had resurfaced around the time of his assignment to the department. Sixteen civilians had been claimed overall and the department had lost six investigating officers who had mysteriously vanished following some mishandled investigation. These psychopaths were foolish enough to attack police officers and continued preying upon the innocent civilians, those whom he would be working with.

"Goddamn it." Kennedy grumbled upon collecting himself, immediately realizing the unabashed foolishness of becoming worked up over something which cannot possibly be changed. His increased heartbeat and tightened muscles settled themselves following several deep breaths, mentally demanding those troublesome emotions into submission. His grasping fingers flexed slightly around the steering wheel as the black jeep leaned into the shoulder and eventually stopped, having been pushing ninety just moments earlier. The rookie officer groaned slightly in that moment, running one hand through brownish-blonde strands before turning his exhausted sapphire pupils towards the nearby billboard which announced his destination was barely three miles down the interstate.

"Welcome to Raccoon City." the rookie officer chuckled bitterly, casually leaning backwards against the driver's seat and retrieving whatever remained of the steaming coffee. The caffeinated beverage rushed down the back of his parched throat and demanded greater awareness concerning his immediate surroundings and heartfelt conflicts. Becoming aggressive and headstrong concerning these cannibal murders wouldn't establish much reliance amongst his fellow officers and certainly wouldn't bring him closer to their newest established tactical response group. Several moments passed without incident as the rookie officer composed himself and restarted the engine and proceeded his journey down the monotonous interstate.

In that moment, Leon Scott Kennedy resolved himself to remain positive about the newfound apartment and promising career which awaited him within the growing metropolis. Several of his academy instructors had annually praised his polished competence, steadfast dedication and impressive insight regarding the nature of his potentially dangerous career. He understood himself as an average young man who was considered easygoing, sociable and understanding by honest acquaintances, this combined with his relatively handsome appearance promised an existence beyond the department. The rookie officer resolved himself to the understanding that the next morning would begin building the foundation for the remainder of his life, so he considered himself more than prepared to confront whatever would come against him.

* * *

Raccoon Countryside - Eastbound Interstate  
September 29th, 1998 8:08 P.M. 

Meanwhile, there was another individual heading for the same destination as the rookie officer, although this second wayward traveler was traveling in the opposite direction, approaching the growing metropolis from the eastbound interstate. The rumbling motorcycle seemed rather inappropriate for long distance travel, but decisive individuals cannot be expected to make arrangements for their impulsive decisions. This second traveler couldn't notice the majestic twilight without glancing into the rearview mirrors which straddled the heavy motorcycle's handlebars, but the wondrous happening remained just as beautiful upon the western horizon. Meanwhile, the eastern horizon was becoming eclipsed by those evening shadows and indicating that within moments the entire countryside would be pitched into starless darkness.

Claire Redfield might have appreciated the magnificent twilight had she not been experiencing complete exhaustion in that moment, having become physical spent from balancing and steering the heavy motorcycle and mentally winded from the potential paranoia which had been torturing her. The college student was beginning to question herself for refusing to borrow her roommate's car, the rumbling vibration of her beloved motorcycle having become much less tolerable following almost four hours of seamless travel. Having recently passed through another state and several counties, she found herself relieved that her impulsive journey would be concluded within the next fifteen minutes. It would probably be another hour before she managed to obtain the answers she was looking for, but removing her bruised and overheated butt from the rumbling motorcycle would be more than welcome.

As another random billboard buzzed appeared in her headlight and disappeared behind her, she was asking herself the same damn question, wondering once more whether she was being naturally concerned or ridiculously paranoid of her present situation. Her numerous classmates would have probably insisted that she should have possessed enough concerns for herself and two other people. There would be another statistics examination sometime within the next three classes and the young woman couldn't afford missing one of these important test grades, never mind the several workbook assignments that would be collected the next afternoon. Claire Redfield was also prepared to accept whatever frustration her employer would be leaving on her answering machine, especially considered that she was supposed to be working this evening. While being penalized for delayed performance and being terminated from customer service might have absolutely terrified most college students, Claire Redfield couldn't have cared less about her general classes or her lesser position at one of the smaller motorcycle dealership. There was something much more important that garnered her undivided attention.

"Chris..." she whispered behind her helmet as her motorcycle barreled down the interstate, her polished instincts maintaining the balance and performance as she rounded another corner. Claire was worried about her older brother, that same person who had selflessly sacrificed so much to provide his little sister an easier existence following the airplane accident which claimed their beloved parents three years earlier. Their immediate inheritance was nothing impressive, but her older brother had managed these parental assets well enough to ensure that she wouldn't suffer through foster care. She was currently enrolled in her second college year and remained confident that she would definitely be somewhere in five years, although she held gratitude toward her scholarships, she realized she wouldn't be anywhere without her brother's support. Everybody confronted difficult challenges and would pursue assistance from several sources, but when it came down to simple survival, they only needed one another.

Claire wouldn't have normally been concerned, understanding the extensive responsibilities which came with law enforcement and her brother naturally understood his little sisters own demanding college schedule. Considering the three hundred miles which usually separated the beloved siblings, their individual locations and opposing lifestyles usually keep them isolated from one another with the exception of the occasional holiday and planned reunions. Due to this considerable distance and unbendable schedules, their primary means of communication usually had become the exchange of written letters between one another. The sociable siblings usually participated in bi-monthly telephone conversations, although this was much less common due to relentless penalties associated with long distance calling and their habitual nature of chattering about absolutely nothing for several hours. Their archaic communication system seemed to have been working without problems for almost two years, but was suddenly broken around four weeks earlier and following recent developments she discovered further reason to be concerned about her older brother.

The younger sister understood that her brother's tactical response service had been removed from the investigation concerning those cannibal murders, the majority of the country probably understood the horrible situation that was gripping the citizens of Raccoon City. Even while her older brother was participating in the investigation, such matters remained outside their annual conversations and the siblings focused upon everything else. She became interested following the group's unsuccessful operation in the nearby woodlands, but her older brother refused to discuss the traumatic experiences and demanded her to focus her attention elsewhere. The siblings continued exchanging letters, but his responses became much shorter and totally uninspired, unconsciously displaying that there was something he wanted to write down, but found himself conflicted about doing so. Claire mentioned this theory in one of her recent letters and Chris's response was requesting that his younger sister not worry herself about it.

Almost four weeks had passed without another letter from her brother, not even the slightest response to those seven which she had been written and mailed within days of one another. Several desperate telephone calls remained unanswered and his answering machine had apparently been deactivated for some unknown reason, her older brother wasn't even answering his cellular phone, which was constantly carried in the event of an unforseen emergency. Claire attempted to concentrate on her schoolwork and employment, eventually attempting to convince herself that her brother might have gotten himself a girlfriend or that he had his compatriots on assignment somewhere. Then she learned something earlier that morning which completely shocked the young woman and planted the foundation for the reckless decision to travel three hundred miles to investigate the whereabouts of her older brother.

Chris Redfield's specialized operations unit had been completely dissolved for almost an entire month and the former officers had been reassigned to other departments, several of these officers having apparently surrendered their badges and abandoned the department altogether. There was also some recently established group that was being mobilized to handle whatever assignments would have once fallen the defunct tactical response unit. Claire Redfield became suspicious, understanding that being terminated from his admirable position wouldn't have been comfortable, but it would prevent her older brother from maintaining contact with his younger sister. Claire's suspicions continued growing and immediately following her last afternoon class, she returned to her apartment and began going down their mutual acquaintances in her address book, which confront her with several unexplained circumstances.

Her brother's phone seemed to have been completely disconnected alongside almost everybody else who happened to be living in the same apartment building. Claire then attempted to contact her positive acquaintance and her brother's teammate, Barry Burton, from which her efforts were rewarded with another disconnection at the career officer's residence. The college student called several more numbers belonging to her brother's work associates, unfamiliar names and numbers and somehow she continued getting disconnections and the occasional overloaded answering machine. The desperate young woman then attempted to phone the police department, her impatience becoming apparent as she was confronted with another disconnection and the sheerest limits of her strained patience. Within fifteen minutes the college student had removed her motorcycle from the university's garage and was rocketing down the interstate highway, bound for the growing metropolis of Raccoon City.

Several realizations of her own foolishness would surface around halfway through her unexpected journey, when she realized her overall possessions consisted of her secondhand motorcycle helmet and the survival knife she usually carried for self-defense. The college student never bothered packing her traveling pack, essentially leaving her stranded with whatever she could procure with the two hundred dollars she was currently carrying. The impulsive teenager also realized she had completely forgotten the protective leathers, which should have been standard for anybody straddling a motorcycle. She realized that she should have been smarter, especially following the countless lectures from her brother describing the horrible injuries which could be sustained by having an accident without the protective covering.

Claire Redfield naturally understood that her professors and employers probably wouldn't sympathize with the college student dropping everything to recklessly travel three hundred miles because her older brother and several others were experiencing difficulties with their phonelines. The classmates and work associates would have probably considered her paranoid for . In questioning her sudden decision, they proved themselves incapable of understanding where she was coming from, proved themselves incapable of appreciating her desperate situation. These orphaned siblings possessed no relatives or kinships that remained among the living and had somehow managed to survive through one another for the longest time. She wasn't prepared to continue living without her brother standing behind her and wouldn't have another moment's peace without knowing whether or not something was happening.

Claire Redfield had been extremely suspicious following her unsuccessful attempts to contact her older brother and their mutual acquaintances. The reckless woman might have been capable of believing in communication troubles, but when nobody within an entire district was answering their telephones, she believed herself justified in being concerned for her older brother.

The decisive motorcyclist glanced towards another passing billboard, smirking somewhat at the announcement that the mid-western town would be appearing within the next several minutes. Not exactly willing to continue lingering upon the monotonous interstate, she applied greater pressure to the powerful motorcycle's acceleration and barreled down the highway. Regardless of the potential consequences, the younger sister would maintain her steadfast determination in uncovering exactly what was happening and discovering where her last remaining relative could have possibly vanished. Should her arrival become greeted with the realization that nothing was happening and her unannounced appearance was unnecessary, she could endure her beloved brother's frustration over her reckless impulses.

Something seemed to have been happening in Raccoon City, the considerable evidence would have supported such outlandish suggestions, the one thing which remained for certain was that she would discover these answers soon enough.

* * *

Author's Commentary: Whew. This has doubtlessly been the most frustrating opening I've ever written, having battled with the overall expressionism and personal scenarios of the main characters before accidentally erasing the flash drive it had saved it on. I haven't exactly planning on saying much regarding this chapter besides attempting to convince everybody that the main character's should be changed much, but their overall presentation might be different in my novelization. At the moment, the most notable alteration is probably going to be Leon Kennedy's issued police uniform, which the newcomer probably wouldn't be wearing because he wouldn't be officially integrated into the police department until the next morning. Although not currently finalized, his recreated appearance is probably going follow his attire from Resident Evil 4, although remaining civilian clothing instead of having underground mercenary appearance. I'm currently undecided about somehow involving perception from some of the other important characters, showing what might have happened beyond what happens during gameplay?

* * *

Your reviews are necessary to inspire me further.  
Please do not hesitate to leave your impressions, suggestions and criticism.


	3. Chapter 3

Northern Outskirts - Raccoon City  
September 29th, 1998 8:18 P.M.

Leon Kennedy recognized several auspicious emotions swelling within him upon his arrival in the growing metropolis, the scenic drive through the bordering farmlands and rural neighborhoods effectively removing whatever flustered negativity remained upon his rattled nerves. The numerous farms which dotted the countryside remained formless under the evening shadows, the working families having doubtlessly retired sometime following sundown. The dormant status remained constant with the familiar carnival located around the local highway, the towering silhouette of the iconic farris wheel remaining motionless while the fairgrounds seemed abandoned. The rookie officer hardly acknowledged this before pressing on, eventually noticing some activity around the rest stations and weighing stations which symbolically represented some manner of mediaeval gatekeepers. Should somebody continue traveling beyond these commonplace facilities, they would discover themselves journeying deeper into the outermost neighborhoods of Raccoon City.

The northern outskirts of the mid-western town were practically greeting the rookie officer which the knowledge that these streets and back would become his to protect beginning the next morning. Within moments he found himself traveling beyond these suburban neighborhoods and eventually discovered himself moving down Mission Street, driving alongside the Raccoon-Arkley Line which was laid down upon the major street. The rookie officer found himself surrounded by an almost endless plethora of family owned businesses and restaurants, private establishments which practically guaranteed quality. There would be several more cheap diners, barbeque joints and espresso bars before the rookie officer arrived at the intersection which would lead to his apartment. The nearby movie theater and comedy theater remained an extremely popular hangout for anybody desiring some much deserved amusement, while several neon-strewn catered to the more explicit interests of the less innocent. It was after passing the seven coffee shop that the young officer's easygoing carelessness suddenly reverted into absent concern, and after the eleventh thrift store it transformed into unabashed confusion. The situation before him couldn't have been possible.

Almost anybody would have noticed that several of these numerous buildings were completely darkened and those which continued to possess florescent lighting seemed to have been completely abandoned. Those inexpensive restaurants where grouping friends would carry their jubilance remained unaccompanied, several having the security shutters drawn over the exterior windows. Those trendy coffee shops where those apparent intellectuals and rebellious artists would carry their business seemed even more soft-spoken, but somehow much less peaceful. The bargain movie theater which should have been packed with teenagers looking to enjoy their favorite horror movies or romantic comedies seemed to have been condemned, the featured movies indistinguishable due to the missing letters. There were some pickup trucks outside one of those oldschool hamburger joints, but the building itself remained about as shadowed and unwelcoming as some gangster tagged backalley. The rookie officer understood that everybody needed to work and that the local students would be attending school the next morning alongside, but the possibility that one of the busiest streets in the mid-western town could be completely abandoned at eight-twenty bordered on being nonexistent.

Leon Kennedy couldn't understand the unnatural scenario spread out before him, particularly the absence of the citizens when almost every adjacent parking lot to these abandoned buildings was populated with something, creating an extensive collection of everything from motorcycles to minivans. While the black jeep continued down the abandoned street, the rookie officer found himself fishing for possible explanations to this otherworldly phenomenon. He immediately considered that something might have been happening at the stadium, but quickly remembered that the mid-western town wasn't exactly known for housing many sports fanatics. Some second thought lead to the possibility that some manner of function might have been happening, but there was absolutely nothing which would have attracted the entire population. The rookie officer chuckled slightly at the situation, humoring himself that perhaps the second coming was happening somewhere nearby and everybody had suddenly rushed to be there.

Several minutes passed before the rookie officer found himself approaching his intersection, . His concentration became focused elsewhere as something appeared in his headlights, an ominous blackness in the middle of the abandoned street which screamed negative fortunes. The rookie officer breathed sharply and immediately applied the break as a dozen black shapes suddenly exploded forward from the blackness, weaving around his vehicle and vanishing into the evening shadows. These creatures were obviously the common crows, the aggressive flapping of their obsidian feathers and their aggravated crying providing doubtless confirmation. The black jeep had stopped short of whatever attracted these feathered scavengers and the rookie officer found himself struggling to overcome the sudden shock. In the next moment he found himself looking back towards where those feathered scavengers had been flocking before his arrival, it was in this moment that the unwelcome situation somehow became much worse.

"No..." the rookie cop swallowed.

There was somebody laying motionless in the middle of the street around three meters from his black jeep, apparently female considering the several bloody crimson stains which crowded upon the simple white blouse. The rookie officer recognized the adrenaline rushing through his bloodstream, understanding that the situation screamed hit-and-run, but somehow remaining suspicious of the situation. Those wretched creatures might have been natural scavengers, but wouldn't have so fearlessly approached anything that hadn't become weathered and sun-dried upon the blackness of the asphalt. Sudden paranoia and nervousness suggested there might have been something unexpected lurking behind those shadowed alleyways, waiting for somebody to make themselves vulnerable. Leon resolved himself to proceed forward, remaining loyal to the inarguable procedures which would dominate his professional career.

The rookie officer fumbled around the passenger seat, knocking over several miscellaneous belongings before reaching under the traveling pack and coming away with a double harness shoulder holster which contained the rookie officer's issued sidearm and two loaded magazines. The rushing adrenaline remained constant as the desperate officer adjusted the double harness, maneuvering the horizontal holster under his left shoulder while the twin magazines were positioned under the opposite shoulder. Officer Kennedy immediately found himself comfortable with the double harness, his undivided attention becoming focused upon the weight and feeling of the powerful handgun.

The newcomer's issued sidearm was an enhanced version of the Beretta M92FS which had been specifically redesigned for the Raccoon Police Department's recently established Select Police Force. The notoriously dependable semiautomatic was apparently similar to the same version utilized by the police department's defunct tactical response operatives, although the overall coloring scheme had been recreated. The stainless steel of the exposed barrel remained unchanged although the majority of the frame was expressed by an imposing obsidian. The outermost lining of the pistol's grip was an appropriate sapphire color, as opposed to the rustic copper tone of the disbanded group's original model. The sidearm's grip was also centered with the police department's emblem, promising considerable trouble should some random civilian be discovered carrying one of these specialized handguns.

Leon Kennedy quickly recovered from admiring the impressive handgun, immediately returning to the present situation and the realization that there might be some raving lunatic wanting some more target practice. The rookie officer quickly retrieved one of the loaded magazines and slapped it into the semiautomatic before sharply pulling back the slides, one nine-millimeter round taking up residence in the chamber. His preparations were completed by removing the department's zipper jacket from over the passenger's seat and pulling it across the sleeved black shirt and shoulder harness. The presence of the department's emblem over the left pectoral and the blaring white inscription of POLICE across the shoulder blades made the black jacket an understandable precaution in the event the RPD suddenly appeared on the scene.

The young officer allowed the rushing adrenaline to dwindle further before killing the engine and stepping from the dormant vehicle, glancing around before stepping toward the motionless remains. His composed features soon became stained with an expression of absolute disgust, one sweaty palm leaving his sidearm to cover his mouth and nose. The abandoned street hosted an unimaginable stench which mercilessly assaulted his delicate olfactory senses, an ungodly essence which smelled of spoiled sirloin and rotting sweetbreads. It brought back memories of working for the local butcher's shop in his hometown, considering the various unneeded scraps, there was often reason to completely avoid the nearby dumpster. This unpleasant musk wasn't something which could have been expected from the living, regardless of how terrible their living conditions might have been.

This horrible smell remained constant as even in approaching the prone corpse, quickly concluding that the recently deceased couldn't have possibly been the source. Batting through the offensive stench, the rookie officer eventually composed himself enough to analyze the motionless young woman before him, the situation somehow inspiring newfound horrors within the newcomer. Several crimson strands obscuring the young woman's features while the numerous scarlet splotches made the anxious observers question the presence of those obsidian scavengers. There were around three dozen vicious holes punched into the recently deceased, ripping through the cotton blouse and exposing the freshness of the glimmering wounds. The rookie officer followed procedure by carefully maneuvered his fingertips toward her unseen neckline, but became rather surprised upon discovering more blood. His anxious curiosity became peaked in that moment and everything changed once those slender fingertips pushed away those crimson tresses which concealed her neckline.

"What?!" Leon gasped before stumbling backwards, another sudden realization summoning hyperventilation and an unstable heartbeat upon the rookie officer. Beyond those crimson tresses were several inches of shreded muscle tissue and the exposed smoothness of the victim's spinal column. The rushing adrenaline returned and the sheer bloodiness of the blackened asphalt became apparent enough for the awestruck enforcer to investigate further, rolling the recently deceased over to discover something even more horrible. As the flickering illumination from the nearby streetlights brightened the immediate surroundings, the young officer suddenly regretted having killed his vehicle's engine before conducting his investigation.

The young woman's cotton blouse had been aggressively ripped open before somebody completely eviscerated several sections of her upper body, completely destroying the once attractive figure. The slender abdomen was skinned and those healthy muscular structure had been utterly ruined, several sections of the adjacent ribcage becoming visible from pushing the blouse away. There was considerable damage elsewhere, but somehow the exposed collarbone and devastated breasts couldn't have been compared to the corpse's face. The missing lips and cheeks created an eternal display of those bloodied teeth, the powerful jawbone visibly attached to the frame of the exposed cranium. An eyeball was missing and the unoccupied socket remained completely visible, the other concealed behind those same crimson tresses which the rookie officer found himself uninspired to remove. The horrifying situation carried several ominous warnings, but the most obvious seemed to be the message seen within the exposed bones, particularly the countless markings which suggested that somebody had been chewing on them.

"Those cannibal murderers?"

Leon fought to maintain his composure as his heartbeat thundered against his eardrums, the rushing adrenaline bringing about an intense nervousness within the unfortunate investigator. Although the horrible scenario was becoming much more apparent in that moment, it was becoming more difficult for the newcomer to accept. These same demented psychopaths had viciously assaulted this young woman, knocked her to the ground and proceeded to devour her without anybody bothering to stand against them. The thought that the deceased somehow remained there long enough for those feathered scavengers to come around was absolutely unacceptable.

The frustrated newcomer would have probably continued delving into the horror of the situation, but an unexpected sound suddenly grabbed his attention away from the devoured remains. The distinctive sound of shuffling footsteps scrapping against the blackened asphalt and the disturbing moaning which came alongside them, becoming louder before finally capturing the rookie officer's complete attention.

"What was that?!" Leon gasped at the sound, glaring backwards over his left shoulder to notice the three individuals stepping around the stopped vehicle and stumbling towards the crime scene. The young officer came to stand before them, his drawn handgun pointed towards the ground as these strangers shuffled forward from the evening darkness. One man and two women were walking strangely, their cumbersome movements suggested intoxication, but their group seemed rather mismatched from where the insightful newcomer was standing. One middle-aged man wearing common working clothes and two young women wearing formal office attire, farmers and secretaries weren't exactly known to frequent taverns together. Leon remained suspicious until these three stepped into the illumination of the nearby street lantern, at which point the scenario suddenly became much more surreal.

The working man's granite-colored dress shirt was covered in numerous splotches of dried crimson, several bruises decorated his exposed arms and there was an apparent limp in the worker's right knee. The blond woman walked alongside the farmer and was wearing an expensive-looking business suit, which had been stained and damaged beyond recognition. The brunette woman trailed behind her colleges and was wearing a common blouse, which seemed to be even more thoroughly stained than her senior woman. Should there have been any connections between these three individuals, friendship or bloodlines wouldn't have been expected.

There were several common factor between them however, particularly the unhealthy alabaster tone which seemed to have dominated every square inch of their exposed flesh and the haunting moaning which echoed into the darkness of the evening. Their movements towards him were accented with cumbersome stumbling and outstretched fingers, apparently believing themselves of covering around five meters with their arms alone. The liquid crimson which stained their fingers and dripped from their jawlines should have provoked the rookie officer into believing these individuals to be those infamous cannibal murders, but there was another common factor which concerned him. It was that rotting stench that dominated the abandoned street, it was becoming stronger with their approach and the source became identified as the decaying flesh which threatened to peel from their bones.

Kennedy's nervousness increased as another individual suddenly stumbled forward from the shadows of some random backalley which separated two of the local buildings, the rookie officer's desperation preventing him from noticing the specifics involve. The newcomer was another woman around her seventies, the granite strands and excessive wrinkles standing as evidence alongside the unhealthy paleness and the mindless moaning. The woman's wide eyes were covered in cataracts and remained unblinking in her approach, her overall appearance sharing the same amount of degeneration displayed by the other suspects.

Another haunting groaned whispered from behind him as another groaning working man appeared from some looted electronics store, the garish neon emblems flashing multicolored illumination over facial lacerations. The black sweater was torn open around the shoulder, revealing chalk-colored flesh and the impressive damage inflicted upon his right shoulder. The remainder of the garment was heavily burned and his tender flesh was literally peeling, adding another element to the unpleasant atmosphere. The lumbering individual immediately noticed the rattled officer through opaque pupils, groaning again before stepping forward with burned arms outstretched and stained teeth displayed.

Leon attempted to calculate his position, discovering himself confronted by an impossible situation which refused to present even the slightest explanation. The young officer's unwavering professionalism claimed that there was some logical explanation for their psychotic behavior and deplorable conditions. The academy graduate wanted to believe that these were those cannibal murderers and realism insisted that he wasn't being approached by the walking dead, unfortunately his terrorized instincts argued otherwise. Their miserable moaning eventually became overwhelming and their refusal to display humanity provoked the rookie officer into pointing his sidearm towards the nearest assailant. Indecision grappled with nervousness as the officer squared himself and attempted to establish dominant authority over the situation.

"Freeze!!" Kennedy shouted toward the nearest assailant, straining under the aggressive shouting and becoming authoritative and commanding in that terrifying moment. The young man dominant authority should have been established by the department's emblem on his clothing, not to mention the deadly firearm he had been carrying. Leon's heartbeat thundered within his eardrums as the suspects continued their cumbersome approach, the worker somehow remaining ignorant to the handgun which was leveled with his throat. The officer unconsciously backstepped from the decaying deviants, completely forgetting the horrible stench and the population's absense. Leon suspended his terror enough to address his assailants once more, waving the firearm threateningly "That's far enough! Don't come any closer!"

The decaying deviants remained ignorant of the department's authority and the threatening presence of the enhanced sidearm that was jumping between them with feverish inconsistence. The rookie officer took another step backwards, feeling the texture of the asphalt change as one boot stepped upon the crimson puddle which formed around the recently deceased. Kennedy took another breath before resolving himself to shoot the closest suspect in the shoulder, prepared himself to establish his willingness to regain control.

"Last warning! Freeze!" Leon shouted, his overall tone becoming more desperate that authoritative, illustrating the obvious insecurity which the situation had summoned within him. The rookie officer's heartbeat ground against his throat as something suddenly grabbed his ankle, an almost painful grasp coming around one of his combat boots. The sapphire gemstones which centered his handsome features snapped towards the ground and immediately traced the alabaster hand to the deceased woman. She groaned in the attempt to pull herself closer to the rookie officer, insufferable howling escaping her lipless mouth as she attempted to chomp down upon the leather.

Leon Kennedy panicked before pulling himself away from those clamping fingers before driving an aggressive kick into the reanimated corpse's cranium, completely forgetting himself in launching his counterattack. The creature dropped back to the asphalt following the brutal impact, accented by an ominous crunching sound which returned the abomination to the darkness. The rookie officer swallowed, his hammering heartbeat and pumping adrenaline almost becoming unbearable as he attempted to . Unfortunate, his opponents were unwilling to allow him that luxury.

The miserable moaning suddenly transformed into an aggressive groaning, the rookie officer twisting around the notice the decaying worker approaching with his alabaster fingers leveled towards the younger man's throat. The handgun snapped back towards the charging creature and the rookie officer trigger pulled the trigger without further hesitation, the slides snapping against the framework twice. The creature stumbled backwards as two crimson blossoms appeared upon the granite dress shirt, but it somehow continued moving forward without acknowledging the mindblowing exhaustion which should have become prevalent with such grievous injuries. Leon stepped backwards in response, readjusting the handgun before discharging it once more, sending one nine millimeter round cracking against the approaching monster's forehead.

The ambitious newcomer watched as the monstrous creature stumbled backwards, the former farmer's ruined visage pointed skywards before collapsing backwards onto the blackened asphalt. The remaining creatures continued moving forward, effectively barricading the frightened individual from the black jeep, their miserable moaning becoming more noticeable as more began appearing from the evening shadows. Apparently attracted by the sudden gunshots, these decaying deviants wanted something from the unofficial enforcer and were mindlessly determined to acquire it.

Seven young men stepped from one nearby alleyway, wearing clothing which would probably have been associated with those troublesome street gangs which caused mischief in the growing metropolis. Another trio of these horrid creatures approached from behind the anxious recruit, three young men wearing the standard uniform of the department's patrol officers while another was wearing special response equipment. Another quartet appeared behind the original group, three appearing to be decently dressed adult while the remaining one couldn't have possibly have reached puberty.

Their miserable moaning and shuffling footsteps became dominant upon the abandoned street and that horrible scent of decaying sweetbreads became overwhelming in their presence. The innocent crimson which splashed their decrepit features became common alongside their excessive injuries which would have incapacitated anybody that could experience suffering. Their impassive cataracts and starved wailing stood as evidence of their missing humanity, their soulless nature becoming even more doubtless with every one that stepped forward from the blackness. The rookie officer soon found himself outnumbered by these cannibalistic murderers, surrounded by these unhealthy psychopaths and completely overwhelmed by the presence of these unnatural creatures...

"Zombies." Leon stopped attempting to discover an explanation to the insanity of the present scenario, verbally accepting that these decaying creatures were the same reanimated monsters from countless campfire fictions and silver-screen horrors. These mindless monsters followed their classical disposition flawlessly, incapable of feeling anything beyond those savage instincts which drove them to somehow procure their next meal. These walking corpses couldn't be brought to respect his judicial authority and recognize the foolishness of challenging his loaded sidearm. The horrible situation became unquestioned in the next moment as the rookie officer reminded himself there were twelve rounds remaining in the magazine, with fifteen more on his shoulder holster. Telling himself that there was no choice remaining.

Leon Kennedy squared himself before turning his attention toward the nearest abomination, leveling his sidearm and pulling the trigger twice without the slightest hesitation. The second creature suddenly lunged forward with an animalistic aggression, the officer frantically kicking the monster in the stomach before discharging the weapon three times into the monsters face, scattering bloody tissue and bone fragments across the asphalt. The next closest lunged forward as the rookie officer moved toward his parked vehicle, stepping beyond reach almost chuckling as the third creature slapped down pathetically against the asphalt. His momentary amusement was interrupted by the other approaching creatures, their wretched wailing and closing proximity capturing his undivided attention. Already realizing the futility of attempting to kill them all, the rookie officer made his move for his parked vehicle.

Three of the moaning zombies were standing around four meters from the personal transport when the rookie officer ripped tossed himself behind the steering wheel. His already strained breathing became inconsistent as he recklessly slammed the driver's side door behind him, one hand mindlessly fumbling around the ignition before remembering that he pocketed his keychain. The frightened motorist immediately began searching the exterior pockets of his black jacket and straight jeans, unconsciously holstering his sidearm to improve the search. The rookie officer was interrupted by two alabaster hands suddenly landing against the window, one of the zombies dragging bloody digits across the glass while numerous others were gathering on the driver's side. The rookie officer eventually recovered his keychain and prepared to make his escape when there was another sudden sound which brought his blood to freezing, the driver's side door slowly opening beside him.

"Shit!" Leon screamed loudly as that horrible smell slammed into him, instinctively throwing himself against the passenger's side door before sending one booted foot into the groaning invader. The monster stumbled backwards, but another seized the doorframe before the young officer could possible reestablish his ownership of the black jeep. The keychain clattered to the floorboard somewhere and within moments there were twelve cannibalistic monsters surrounding the vehicle, every one of them possessing the same mindless intentions. While these creatures might have seemed conformed to their fictional counterparts, there remained some expectant intelligence beyond their savage instincts. The rookie officer decided to reserve scolding himself for another time, quickly recognizing that his two-seated graduation present was beyond recovery and that retreat was his single remaining option.

"Goddamn it!" Leon shouted as another zombie attempted to approach, drawing his sidearm and thoughtlessly draining the twelve remaining rounds into their lumbering numbers. Leon glanced through the passenger side window as the slides finally locked against the framework, confirming that there were no zombies barricading his escape route down the sidewalk. One hand snapped upwards to toss the second door open, the rookie officer rolling backwards and onto the vacant sidewalk in one unorthodox movement. Some of the mindless pursuers noticed that walking around the parked vehicle was an option, but the majority remained determined to follow their potential meal through the personal transport. Leon ignored his monstrous pursuers long enough to retrieve the traveling pack from the passenger seat, stepping backwards as three zombies came crawling over one another. The frustrated newcomer responded by slamming the passenger door in their bloody faces, the doorframe cracking loudly against one of their craniums, giving him another few precious moments of security.

Without further reason to remain behind, the rookie officer retreated down the unoccupied sidewalk with those shambling corpses mindlessly attempting to pursue him. Having managed to retrieve his traveling pack, there was nothing remaining which would require him to return to his abandoned graduation present. The rookie officer thoughtlessly rushed down the sidewalk before ducking into the alleyways and passages, rushing through opened buildings and backtracking whenever necessary. His natural instincts placed priority upon avoiding another one of these monstrous creatures, driving him toward discovering some method of escaping the condemned metropolis. The traveling pack was maneuvered over one shoulder between his sprinting motions, the second magazine slapping into the newcomer's issued sidearm before turning another random corner.

Leon Scott Kennedy garnered his determination in that moment, realizing that those countless regulations and restrictions were irrelevant to the otherworldly situation. He believed himself totally committed to doing whatever was necessary to somehow persevere against the monstrous creatures which populated the transformed necropolis, determined to somehow survive long enough to see the next sunrise. The ambitious rookie officer would continue moving forward, remaining ignorant of the incredible challenges which would confront him before those blazing colors touched upon the eastern horizon.

* * *

Author's Commentary: 

Leon Scott Kennedy wouldn't be officially integrated into the department until the next morning, so having the recent graduate arrive wearing the police uniform probably wouldn't have made much sense. The abnormal uniform remains one of the most confusing aspects of the second game, considering there are never any zombies or characters wearing anything similar. I've decided against removing his police background completely, his commonplace clothing retains several symbols of his authority and position. The character's standard clothing includes standard blue jeans, a tight-fitting black shirt and combat boots. The shoulder holster is the standard black harness, there's nothing really impressive about it beyond the sidearm and magazines. The fingerless gloves will probably come along later. The black jacket is basically the zipper coat commonly seen amongst police officers, the department's emblems printed over the material proving authenticity. The specific model used for this novelization is one of London Fog's weather-resistant zipper jackets, prominently featuring exterior pockets and inner pockets.

Although the H&K VP70 is an excellent handgun and has become renowned within the series, the thought of this weapon being issued to western police officers is rather difficult to swallow. The constant presence of the Beretta M9 throughout the majority of the series influenced my decision to replace the rookie officer's sidearm with something more impressive. Leon Kennedy's issued sidearm is essentially the repainted version of the Samurai Edge, having been created exclusively for the officers of the department's recently established Select Police Force. The traveling pack should have some other useful articles which might appear sometime later, but nothing impressive enough to keep the rookie officer from running.

* * *

Your reviews are necessary to inspire me further.  
Please do not hesitate to leave your impressions, suggestions and criticism.


	4. Chapter 4

Around ten minutes following her arrival in the growing metropolis, Claire Redfield suddenly found herself enlightened to another consequence of the reckless determination which had carried her almost three hundred miles. The young woman's motorcycle grumbled loudly as she cruised through another intersection, another unpopulated street greeting her as she bitterly acknowledged her own stubborn foolishness. Claire might have memorized the journey across the interstate and had managed herself through the outskirt farmlands and suburban neighborhoods well enough, but everything became much more complicated upon entering the city proper. The decade-ancient buildings blended together and the various streets conformed to one another, effectively transforming the young rider's steadfast dedication into unabashed confusion. Navigating through the mid-western town couldn't have been too difficult during the daylight hours, but it became notoriously challenging once the evening darkness settled.

The young woman's frustration continued building as she maneuvered her motorcycle down another unpopulated street, remaining completely oblivious to her general location within the growing metropolis. She wouldn't have normally been so aggravated, but her sudden revelations had been accompanied with the knowledge that she had completely forgotten the directions to her older brother's apartment. The decisive young woman had visited several times before, although it usually involved her rendezvousing with her brother around one of the more popular establishments, because of their arrangements she found herself struggling to remember the whereabouts of her brother's apartment. The clueless traveler could remember the modest apartment building being located somewhere on Wallace Street, but the connecting streets and distinctive landmarks completely escaped her recollection.

"I'm not getting anywhere like this." The young woman mentally breathed before relaxing her twisting grasp upon the acceleration, carefully suffocating the heavy motorcycle's accelerated momentum. The rumbling machine rolled another twenty meters before stopping in one of the three remaining parking spaces outside one of the several restaurants which decorated the growing metropolis. The rumbling motorcycle was immediately silenced and the stillness of the evening became prevalent around the frustrated traveler. Her natural pride was buckling against the unwelcome situation before her, but she resolved herself in the knowledge that she wouldn't be getting anywhere without asking directions. She breathed deeply before straightening herself on the dormant motorcycle, rather curious how the familiar restaurant remained illuminated while the remainder of Raccoon Street seemed to have been shut down.

The younger sister naturally noticed the complete absence of the town's easygoing population, having begun questioning the chances that there couldn't be anything happening within the prosperous shopping and restaurant districts of the growing metropolis. Several apartment buildings seemed monolithic without the slightest glimmer of illumination and the smaller businesses became imposing behind their security shutters. The flickering streetlights suggested several transformers were experiencing problems, the remaining electricity having been diverted from surrounding homes and businesses to power the more important public utilities. The young woman realized that the citizens were around, having noticed several drunken residents somewhere back on Chester Street and several students loitering in one of the subway stations on Garden Street. Nevertheless, the complete absence of the slightest activity on these popular streets seemed unbecoming to the impulsive student, most less rational individuals would have probably considered this to be impossible. 

Several moments passed before Claire Redfield decided against concerning herself further, standing from her motorcycle and casually removing the secondhand helmet which she'd received from her brother. The young woman breathed as her beautiful features were exposed to the autumn evening, brilliant cerulean pupils reflecting the flickering illumination of the adjacent streetlights. The helmet was removed to one of the rearview mirrors before the young woman's attention turned to be focused upon the reflection of herself in the polished surface, specifically the chocolate brown strands which brushed against her slender shoulders. The young woman chuckled slightly before maneuvering both gloved hands into those chocolate strands, flawlessly recreating the casual ponytail which completed her everyday appearance. Her reflection displayed that her youthful features remained untouched by even the slightest cosmetics, having never been comfortable with the excessive maintenance that her rather shallow roommate accepted almost every morning.

Becoming convinced of her appearance, the frustrated traveler gracefully removed herself from the dormant motorcycle before retrieving her secondhand helmet and proceeding toward the entrance of the illuminated restaurant. Although she remained unenthusiastic about questioning strangers for directions, the observations which surrounded approach almost demanded she make an exception. There were several random vehicles sitting in the nearby parking lots and there was one unoccupied police cruiser sitting right outside which almost promised superior directions. Although her older brother might have become somewhat infamous throughout the department in recent months, she remained confident that one of his fellow officers would be willing to provide some insight as to his whereabouts.

These optimistic hopes were shattered upon entering the small restaurant, the derelict interior and overturned furniture created an appropriate atmosphere amongst the uncomfortable silence of the abandoned establishment. The limited illumination was flickering weakly in that moment and there was nothing around the smoking area of the deplorable restaurant. There were several bottles and glasses gathering dust upon the bar, there was an abandoned serving of cheesy nachos around the middle near where the bartender should have been standing. Several abandoned hamburgers and sandwiches decorated the standing tables, but the majority of these were splattered upon the hardwood floor. The wayward traveler absently tested to nearby switches, several of the bulbs fought to achieve brilliance before suddenly blinking into darkness. She then proceeded to step backwards upon seeing several cockroaches suddenly vanish under one of the overturned tables, the young woman's obvious disgust becoming manifested in her shocked expression.

"What in the hell happened in here?!" Claire sharply whispered, her voice somehow reflecting her overwhelming confusion over her obvious disgust with the derelict restaurant. An unexpected response emerged for the kitchen in the form of several metallic instruments clattering against the floorboards, the distinctive sound of shattering dishes followed moments later. Claire remained where she was standing for several moments, her hammering heartbeat increasing as an unmistakably painful groan emerged from the kitchen. Quickly realizing that there wasn't anything to be anything gained from standing there, the impulsive college student cautiously stepped forward into the darkness of the restaurant.

It could almost be assumed that the Redfield bloodline possesses some manner of inescapable disposition towards the well-being of other people, something which both inherited from their beloved parents. Neither found themselves capable of looking elsewhere while somebody else could have been suffering, regardless of their own personal sacrifices to give their assistance. Neither sibling perceived differences between their most beloved friend or an anonymous stranger, neither should have become more important that the other. Chris Redfield's impressive career in law enforcement was self-spoken, protecting and serving those innocent civilians and defeating those that would seek to do the opposite drove him forward with endless momentum. Claire Redfield was pursuing the nursing program and was planning on eventually becoming a physician should her financial existence support additional education. Should anybody have witnessed their countless sacrifices over their individual lifetimes, nobody could have possibly anticipated that such an admirable quality might someday endanger them. 

"Hello? Is anybody back there?" Claire murmured as she stepped around the overstocked counter, another miserable moaning attracting her further into the enclosing darkness of the wrecked kitchen. The second collection of switches brought moderate illumination across the restaurant's kitchen, revealing enough destruction to make one believe an isolated hurricane somehow managed to materialize within the back room. Her leather boots crunched against the shattered plates and pushed through the cooking instruments which attempted to barricade her progress. She noticed that the majority of the flatware was stowed away somewhere, but several of the larger cooking blades were absent from their assigned positions in the wooden blocks. The opened freezer had created an impressive puddle on the floor, the burning ovens nearby explaining the incredible amount of heat in the restaurant. These two elements might have explained the overpowering stench which lingered throughout the building, but she somehow realized that it wasn't coming from spoiled ingredients.

"What happened in here?" Claire whispered unconsciously as she approached the back of the kitchen, her nervousness increasing with every shattered saucer and every fallen instrument. Her impulsive investigation continued revealing further suspicious elements which should have been screaming that somehow was horrible wrong with the family-owned establishment. The flickering streetlights and powerless buildings suggested that whatever was happening somehow extended beyond the isolated district and across the rest of the mid-western town. Claire should have noticed the ominous presence, but thoughtlessly continued to track that painful groaning which resounded throughout the decimated kitchen. Her search was concluded in discovering the obvious source of the miserable moaning, which confirmed earlier suspicions that stepping forward had been extremely foolish.

Claire Redfield discovered herself incapable of speaking in that moment, remaining completely motionless as she observed the horrifying scene which was taking place before one of the stainless steel refrigerators. There was an unmoving woman spread out across the kitchen floor, she was dressed in the classical pink waitress attire and possessed an expression of unparallel horror which remained plastered upon her alabaster features. The opposite character was kneeling over the deceased waitress, apparently the bartender considering the black trousers and white dress shirt, occasionally emitting those suffering groans between unseen actions. Both individuals were surrounded by an ominous crimson puddle which mixed into the mortar between the ceramic tiles and the horrible situation demanded greater knowledge. Claire sidestepped somewhat and swallowed heavily at the next several moments, the bartender's blood splattered hands were digging into the waitresses abdomen and removing whatever could possibly be grasped. The young woman's resolve crackled with several thousand crack and completely shattered when the bartender thoughtlessly chomped down upon the bloody clump mass which had been torn from the woman's exposed stomach.

"One of those cannibal murderers...?" the frightened student might have normally buckled under the pressure had it not been for the continuous coverage of the extraordinary situation, the unacceptably descriptive coverage which had dominated most of the evening news over the summer. The concept of cannibalism didn't seem impossible, the thought that somebody might be slain by one of these psychopaths had probably attracted some tourism to the mid-western town. Despite this, it should have been impossible that this could have been happening three hours before midnight in the middle of the community's most populated districts. She couldn't contemplate the situation in that moment, her hammering heartbeat and rushing adrenaline demanding that the wayward traveler concern herself with nothing beyond escaping.

Claire immediately proceeded with her retreat by taking several steps backwards, sweating under the pressure of the overwhelming stench and the crunching sounds which accented the psychopath's infernal gorging. She soon found herself battling against her unsettled stomach, which threatened to release everything which had been consumed earlier in the afternoon. Her breathing became strained and ragged, the young woman becoming so focused upon going unnoticed that she completely forgot the various appliances that were resting on the floor behind her. 

"Shit!" Claire mentally snapped as several more metallic instruments loudly shifted around her leather boots, her throat locking as the bloodied bartender leaned upwards and looked back toward the female intruder. There was an enormous hollow punched into the woman's chest and abdomen, the exposed ribcage suggesting that several internal organs were probably missing. Claire should have been prepared to jump through one of the nearby windows, but found herself stunned upon seeing the horrible monster which had been feasting moments earlier. The bartender was haggard in appearance, the lifeless white pupils and the overwhelming stench threatening to steal away an unknown something from the young woman. Several thoughts entered her consciousness as she searched for an explanation to such deplorable conditions, although every realistic assumption seemed even more unlikely than the one before it.

Her combative instincts flared into existence as the decaying creature suddenly lunged forward, releasing an almost savage scream as those bloodstained fingers lashed towards her slender shoulders. She backstepped across the various metallic instruments before dropping one foot into one of the frying pans, sending the young woman dropping backwards onto the seat of her shorts. Claire breathed heavily as the murderous cannibal leered towards her and resumed with that miserable moaning, the most unnerving sound which echoed forth from an endless suffering. Apparently unwilling to waste precious time, the demented bastard dropped forward in the same moment that his prospective victim pushed herself backwards across the kitchen floor. Her bloodstained pursuer released another groan which sounded in confused frustration, slowly managing to regain balance and stepping towards the young woman with those shuffling footsteps.

"Stand back, asshole!" Claire instinctively shouted before grabbing one of the heavier frying pans, the confrontation having summoned the reserved aggression which also remained prevalent within her bloodline. The decaying deviant hardly even noticed these aggressive threats and continued forward, revealing another insufferable groan before the flame-stained iron cracked against his cranium. Claire gasped in surprise as the cannibal murderer somehow managed to remain standing and presented little hesitation in giving the bloodstained bastard another forceful blow. The second impact was greeted with an unfamiliar crunching sounds as the bloody bartender dropped to the floor, thick crimson leaking from the impressive wound in his busted forehead.

"You were warned, bastard!" Claire shouted before aggressively throwing the flying pan across the kitchen, although in the next moment she realized that she was actually more frightened than frustrated. She'd encountered several conflicting moments throughout her difficult existence and there had been several potential opponents who had been witness her sheer resolve. There were several overzealous fraternity brothers back on campus who had acknowledged her willingness and wandered elsewhere. There had also been several arrogant drunkards around her hometown who found themselves on the ground around ten seconds after challenging her resolve. However, there had never been anytime within her nineteen years that somebody continued forward without the slightest hesitation. Never even acknowledging the young woman's willingness to send them to the cemetery.

Several moments passed with the young woman watching the cannibal murderer's twitching corpse, which somehow continued moving without taking even the slightest breath. She found herself becoming frightened as the scenario settled up her. The thought of having actually killed somebody presenting itself with an intense burden. Claire understood that her own bloodletting spawned from defending herself, but found herself becoming unraveled by the situation regardless. Her attention became sidetracked as another wretched groan escaped from the floored corpse. Claire's perception on the cannibal murderer transformed in that moment as the madman boosted himself upwards and regaining his balance before glancing back towards the girl. The bloody bartender continued bleeding from the splitting gash over his skull, but somehow continued moving without the slightest expressed discomfort.

Claire mindlessly continued stepping backwards as the shambling murderer approached her, those bloodstained fingertips outstretched and that miserable moaning dominating the restaurant. The bartender moved forward following another groan of frustration, the young woman turning and dashing from the claustrophobic confines of the wrecked kitchen. Claire screamed as she rounded the bar and tripped over another dropped dish, her momentary diversion allowing her pursuer to gain several precious steps. She collected herself and attempted to move for the entrance when the savage pursuer grabbed one of her shoulders. Untrimmed fingernails dragged across the fabric of her vest as she pulled away, taking several steps before turning towards her pursuer and bringing her right hand to grasp the combat knife which was strapped across her right shoulder. The threatening gesture couldn't have possibly been misread, her slender fingers twisting around the leather grip and her determination flaring into something violence. Those bloodstained fingertips were lingering about eighteen inches from her shoulders when her resolve finally snapped and she struck.

"Get away from me!!" Claire suddenly screamed with intense aggression, unsheathing the combat blade and lashing toward the decayed cannibal before he could attempting rushing her one more time. The shimmering edge cleaved through the bartender's blubbery throat and the underlying windpipe, an unnaturally colored lifeblood spraying across the hardwood floor. Claire stepped backwards with the deadly blade held downward, the blackened crimson grasping to the stainless steel weapon instead of casually dripping from the polished surface. The cannibal murderer should have been dropping to the floor holding a blood-spurting wound, instead he groaned in apparent discomfort before looking back towards the motorcyclist. What little blood was present was dripping down the monster's sliced throat with the consistency of cocoa syrup, possessing a much higher viscosity than what could have possibly been considered normal.

"Impossible..." Claire whispered as she stepped backwards from the inhuman monster, which seemed to have been stunned by the merciless counterattack which slashed open his bloody throat. The young woman's mindless retreat brought her back against one of the nearby tables and her she suddenly noticed the rapping against the adjacent windows. Her ponytail whipped slightly as she glanced across her left shoulder, those cerulean pupils becoming wide as several horror movies and campfire stories raced across her consciousness. There were more of these cannibalistic creatures attempting to break through the windows, moaning miserably and experiencing decomposition. The moment became unsuitable to comprehend the situation as the original aggressor suddenly lunged towards her, those fingers digging into her handmade riding vest.

The combat knife was instinctively driven downwards into the creature's collar bone, her other hand moving against the psychopath's shoulder as he attempted to move towards her throat. The young woman grunted as she was pushed backwards against the nearby table, the monster displaying his superior strength and endurance as those rotting jaws inches closer to her slender throat. Claire found herself screaming as she attempted to ground herself, understanding that there wouldn't be anymore opportunities to defend herself should her attacker somehow manage to overpower her. The blade was drawn backwards and struck down thrice more, but the cannibal's composure wouldn't surrender regardless of how many mortal wounds the young woman struck. Claire prepared herself for whatever would happen next, but her frantic screams were suddenly interrupted as somebody suddenly kicked open the rear entrance and entered the small restaurant with his handgun drawn, before being pointed towards the grappling couple and quickly discharged.

Claire Redfield stopped screaming upon registering the vicious gunshot which screamed against her eardrums, the superior strength of the cannibal murderer vanishing enough to be pushed backwards onto the hardwood floor. The slightest moment passed with her attention focusing upon her lifesaver before she glanced toward the possessed creature which remained motionless upon the floor. The cannibal murderer's cranium had been exploded outwards by the nine millimeter round entering the right temple, the cannibal monster's coagulated crimson beginning to gather around his head. The young woman carefully retrieved her combat knife from her attacker's shoulder blade, carefully cleaning it before returning it to the leather sheath strapped to her left shoulder.

"Goddamn it!" the marksman snapped before unloading another two bullets into the doorway, another pair of those creatures dropping to the pavement before the gunslinger glanced towards the college student and motioned her away from the windows. Claire thoughtlessly followed this unspoken request, but remained skeptical about her rescuer who had mysterious appeared and executed three of these depraved psychotics without the slightest hesitation. Her cautious skepticism was quickly replaced by an unexpected confidence as the gunslinger approached the double doors and sealed the deadbolts. The decorative emblems on his casual jacket revealed his connection to the local police department, the immediate circumstances suggesting that he was assigned to the police cruiser sitting outside the dilapidated restaurant. Several moments passed before the officer addressed her directly "That thing didn't hurt you, right?!" 

"The bastard never got the opportunity." the wayward traveler breathed, unconsciously monitoring those groaning creatures which were currently crowding around the restaurant's oversized windows. The police officer nodded before turning his attention turning towards the windows, eyeballing the vacant police cruiser which had been abandoned in the middle of the street. These curious glances towards the imposing cruiser provided the unsettling realization that the vehicle probably belonged to somebody else. The young officer's heavy breathing and apparent fatigue suggested he'd been sprinting through the countless alleyways which honeycombed the surrounding districts, his drawn sidearm reinforcing the extreme severity of the situation. The college student watched him loiter around the building for several minutes before speaking, the groaning of the aggressors becoming much too stressful in the moment "What's going on with this town?"

"You're asking the wrong person." the winded officer announced before stepping around the counter to inspect the underlying shelves, searching the derelict restaurant for anything which could have possibly assisted them. His handsome features were painted with an unnerving expression "I just arrived in town around twenty minutes ago and these persistent bastards have been popping out from the woodwork ever since. I'm not even supposed to be starting my shift until tomorrow morning. How about telling me your excuse?"

"Actually..." she would have happily answered her rescuer's question in that moment, would have been fearless in explaining she was just as clueless as anybody else could have possible been. Their pointless conversation was shattered alongside two of the larger windows, three more of those creatures pulling themselves inside with even greater numbers lumbering behind them. The rookie officer instinctively pointed his sidearm toward them, but stepped backwards instead of opening fire, understanding that his remaining bullets wouldn't have been enough to stop them. He glanced backwards to another window before noticing that there was another entrance which wasn't being blocked by these massing cannibals. Claire found herself breathing heavily as her newfound partner made one wordless motion before rushing toward their single remaining option.

The college student followed in the police officer's frantic footsteps, grasping her combat knife as her savior disengaged the deadbolt and dashed forward into the dangerous streets. Both survivors found themselves cursing their negative fortunes as their moaning adversaries were lumbering around less than twenty feet away and gathering awareness of their frantic movements. The officer prepared his handgun and pointed it towards the mindless cannibals who prepared to surround them, their decrepit features lacking the slightest nervousness as the bloodstained survivors. Claire carefully unsheathed the combat knife as those in the restaurant fought with the doorway, the wooden doorway straining under their hammering punches. Her attention darted across the pavement as those around her motorcycle began approaching, when she noticed an ominous twinkle from one of the flickering street lights.

"Over there!" Claire whispered, pointing toward the fallen police officer which was sprawled across the pavement behind the motionless police cruiser, the puddle of liquid crimson suggesting his demise had been recent. Both quickly recognized the metallic object grasped between the fallen officer's fingers and this slender sparkle of salvation was more than enough to push them forward. The rookie officer raised his sidearm and shot down the closest two of the murderous cannibals, allowing the starcrossed survivors an opportunity to approach the abandoned vehicle. Those stumbling cannibals were standing around seven meters away when the college student knelt down and snatched the keychain from the fallen officer, tossing them to the rookie officer before stepping around the passenger's side.

The next several moments passed with the most surreal pressure upon the college student. The rookie officer found himself sitting behind the steering wheel within the three seconds of catching the fallen officer's keychain and the college student occupied the passenger's seat less than one second following. Both frightened individuals slammed their doors the same moment, before one key was aggressive stabbed and twisted into the cruiser's ignition. The powerful engine roared into existence and the conditioned rubber screamed loudly against the blackened asphalt before rocketing away from the derelict restaurant. Those bloodthirsty psychopaths remained in the rear-view mirrors, mindlessly stumbling after the retreating vehicle and finally vanishing as they rounded the nearby street.

Claire Redfield carefully sheathed the combat knife before her hand moved under her breasts, her hammering heartbeat reverberating through her fingertips as she came to the understanding that the situation involving these cannibal murderers was much more complicated than everybody would have thought.

* * *

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